


Five Times An Avenger Met The Couple And One Time Thor Knew Who They Were

by WowItsAlmostLikeICare



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Crossover, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Achilles, Immortal Patroclus, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, they all get hugs courtesy of Pat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27289573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WowItsAlmostLikeICare/pseuds/WowItsAlmostLikeICare
Summary: She had just left France behind and it was here, in Spain, on the run from those she had betrayed with all the ruthlessness that had been drilled into her, that she sawthem.At first glance they seemed to be nothing more than two friends out enjoying their holidays, vacationing in one of the many plazas in Spain. But that naïve view of them lasted for only a moment.Something about them pricked up the hairs on the back of her neck, raised her hackles. She knew something was wrong with them. It was obvious to any who actually looked, a simple fact.The sky was blue, grass was green and they were dangerous.Or, Achilles and Patroclus being beautiful and Immortal, meeting the various members of the team on various different occasions.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus, Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Avengers Team & Avengers Team, Briseis & Patroclus (Song of Achilles)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 166





	1. Steve

**Author's Note:**

> Like, I wrote this at 23:51 and will only edit it in the morning but I wanted to get the first part out and done. Yay. Also: Thanks to [TheUndertakersMind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUndertakersMind) for correcting all my mistakes! Enjoy!

Steve slowed to a gentle jog for his last few laps. He could hear bright laughter from across the park. He recognised the source of it. Two men who were there every morning. When he arrived at the park they’d already be there running across the grassy fields and the paved walkways, this unusual practice was what first drew his attention to them.

They were talented runners, speed mixed with extraordinary stamina, a combination that let them continue onwards around at their own pace for, what Steve estimated, was a good three hours.

Steve went to a stop by the water fountain, leaning down to drink. He’d been pushing it today, in an effort to forget the mortifying occurrence that had taken place the night before.

Some days he could almost forget, how _other_ he was. The man out of time indeed, he snorted bitterly.

He could go whole days blissfully pretending he belonged. And then something would happen, that would send him crashing back down to earth with the realisation that he _didn’t_ belong, that he _was_ only pretending. 

Sometimes it was a combination of the little things: mixing up prices, being shocked at the openness and progress of society. But sometimes it was big things. Being confronted with the growing awareness of mental health, the vaccinations, people living for decades longer. 

And _why_ couldn’t they have had that? John down the road could have had real help, instead of being carted off to some ‘institute’, the Morris children would have been saved from something people now thought of as trivial.

More laughter.

He looked up and caught sight of of golden hair glinting in the sun. The two men. They were racing now; they always ended their runs with a race. The blonde always won, not that his companion ever seemed to mind. He looked back down at his hands.

_C’mon Capsicle, its team-building time, you should be good at that, with your whole Boot Camp thing and all_ , was all Stark had said before bullying him, and them all, into one of the Tower’s many TV rooms, crowing the whole way about team-bonding.

Steve had sat, not having the energy in him to fight Stark about it, and maybe, maybe, he’d been a little excited. The movie chosen had been such a silly one, with bright flowers on its cover, Stark singing its praises, called Austen Powers.

And the team had laughed at it. Even Natasha had found it amusing, shown with a small, barely-there quirk of her lips.

And yes, he supposed some parts were funny. But not as funny as everyone around him was finding it. It had references he hadn’t been able to understand. The others chattered and snickered at lines that meant nothing to him, poked fun at actors he didn’t know, spoke of other films similar to it he’d didn’t know, and of how it was all a parody of _something he didn’t know._

To his horror he’d felt tears of frustration sting his eyes. He didn’t know how it had happened, but the next thing he knew he was shouting at Stark, Stark at him, Barton at both, Bruce in the corner with Natasha. Stark saying something about film-study classes, Barton yelling that they were acting like children. Then Steve had stormed out, had spent a restless night tossing and turning and then he’d left, avoiding everyone, and started on his morning run. 

More shrieks of laughter. The blonde one was trying to escape his friend’s hands, a litany of pleas interspersed with what, Steve could only assume, was his friends name. _No, no Pat please, I didn’t mean to, no stop, that tickles, PAT!_

The blonde had been tackled to the ground by Pat, squirming under his friend’s grinning face as he was tickled.

Pat kneeled down and kissed the struggling man underneath him on the tip of his nose before bending down to catch his lips.

_Alright then, more than friends it was._

The first time he spoke to them was a week later. Or rather only the blonde. His friend was nowhere to be seen.

Another difference was that the man was over on his side. And hadn’t started running. In fact, he almost seemed to be waiting for him, something confirmed a moment later when he was waved over.

“Hi,” Steve said, hesitantly. 

The other man gave him a slow smile, one nowhere near as bright as the one he’d given his partner.

“Hello,” he replied, voice soft with some unidentifiable accent. 

“Where’s your friend?” Steve, faced with a lack of better options, asked.

The other hiked up his shoulder in a shrug, but didn’t answer. He was staring instead, intently, at Steve.

“How fast can you go?” He asked, abruptly.

“Pardon?”

“When you’re not holding back, how fast can you go?” There was a challenging glint in his eyes now, a look daring him onwards. Steve found himself accepting. 

“Very. You?”

“You caught that then?” He said calmly, but his eyes were alight with delight and eagerness.

“Yes.” And it was true. From what he could see, the blonde before him could go further, faster, than he let on. He didn’t seem the type to bow to others restrictions, hide who he was and hold _anything_ back, but someone, probably Pat, had clearly convinced him otherwise. 

But he was still someone who lived for the adrenaline filled races, the speed, the competition, so he held back, a little, just enough that he appeared to be nothing more than a very fast man, but still allowing himself to show off. Same as Steve. And like could recognise like.

The other stuck out his hand, that challenging smile still teasing his lips.

“Achilles.” He said.

“Like the myths?” Steve asked.

Achilles smiled at him again, something like mischief sparking in his eyes.

“My parents where enthusiasts. You?”

“I’m Steve.”

“Well, Steve, its nice to meet you. Let’s race.”

Steve felt himself smiling.

“Yeah.” He said, “Let’s race.”

It was freeing, to have someone run alongside him, to keep up with him. And Achilles certainly kept up, matching Steve pace for pace, his chest rising and falling in even breaths. Steve turned to look at him and blinked, startled.

The other’s eyes were bright, his mouth curled up in a savage grin of glee, the cool morning light shone through his hair, making it seem alive with flames. There was something feral in his delight, an unidentifiable fierceness that was just, just, _inhuman_. Other.

“Achilles!” A voice called out. Steve tore his eyes away and noticed Pat running up to them. When he looked back, a proper smile had appeared on Achilles face, that strange look washed away by a wave of warmth that transformed his whole face as he laid eyes on the other man. Steve wondered if he’d imagined the earlier look.

Pat was almost level with them now. 

“Catch me if you can Patroclus!” Achilles crowed, before speeding up from his and Steve’s run into a sprint.

Steve blinked. Patroclus, huh. That was an equally strange name.

Patroclus overtook him, dark curls flying every which way as he put on another burst of speed. He caught up with Achilles who shot him a fierce grin which he returned with an equally feral one.

There was no way for Patroclus to win. Unless…

Steve watched, shocked, as Patroclus stuck out a leg, one that Achilles easily dogged, sliding left. And right into Patroclus’s outstretched arm. He promptly lost his balance and, with a startled yelp, hit the ground. He wasn’t alone. Patroclus, having sacrificed his own victory to bring his partner down, had dramatically fallen alongside him, legs tangled in an ungainly heap on the grass.

Steve could hear their laughter, saw Achilles roll Patroclus onto his back and declare his victory, only to be bucked off. The two rolled around on the ground, smiling and teasing the other, and Steve felt a pang in his chest.

The two were in their own world, one that couldn’t be broken into by anyone, least of all him. Not that he’d want to.

Steve let a small smile curl on his lips as he ran past, completing his circuit before turning and starting again. Maybe he’d take Tony up on his offer for nightly movie-studys after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m pretty sure this shows I know nothing about running lol


	2. Tony: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How’s my adorable little badger!”
> 
> “Badger?”
> 
> “Because your husbands always badgering me about you. Get it? Hey Patroclus—hey— hey— Get it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With a bucketload of thanks to [TheUndertakersMind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUndertakersMind) who pointed out all my errors! Anyways, enjoy!

Tony flicked his eyes across the hall, sipping from his champagne as he surveyed the gathered groups of rich elites, all peacocking, vying for his attention.

He was utterly and mind-numbingly bored.

The tabloids would all scream the success of his party, the grand celebration of his getting another year older. He could see the headlines now. _The Merchant of Death has Done it Again!_ And one that popped up every year: _Another Year Gone, Another Year Older_. And he felt…nothing. 

He grimaced slightly as the man jabbering at his side’s voice began to raise in pitch while he stumbled over himself to get his words out. 

He turned and grabbed a glass from a passing waiter and valiantly went back to ignoring the small swarm around him. God, did they never stop? It was _exhausting_.

He needed to escape. Now.

He excused himself, pasting a polite smile across his face as ducked and weaved in and out of the surrounding people, heading for a quieter place where they wouldn’t find him.

“Thank fuck.” He exclaimed, leaning back against the wall as he downed his drink in one swallow.

“Can I help you?” Came a soft, accented voice form somewhere to his right. He startled, head knocking against the wall hard enough that he saw stars.

“What the—”

A warm hand shot out, taking hold of his arm, steadying him.

Tony looked up.

A young man was looking at him, concern shining in his brown eyes, dark hair curling around his ears, a small piece sticking up from where he had made an attempt to smooth it all down. He was, quite frankly, adorable.

“Well, _hello_ ,” Tony drawled, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before, and believe you me, I know _everything_.” 

Ok, so maybe not his best work, but in his defence, he’d had half a bottle of wine before the party had even begun.

The other man raised a disbelieving eyebrow and crossed his arms.

Tony gave his best smile in response, batting his eyelashes. Yep, definitely drunk.

“Patroclus!” Another voice called out, a woman this time, from somewhere across the room.

The man in front of him spun, probably looking for the owner of the voice. Now, that won’t do at all.

“Patroclus, huh? That’s a mouthful. Not that I’m complaining. You look like you could be a mouthful too.” Tony gave an exaggerated wink, knowing that he’d die of shame in the morning. He swayed forwards slightly and stumbled into Patroclus’s arms. Who only stared down at him in shock.

“You’re drunk.” He said, in that delightful accent of his. His arms were still crossed, eyes narrowed, but he could see a spark of amusement in them now. Score.

And yes, Tony was drunk, but that was hardly relevant to the point he was making.

A woman walked up to where they were standing. And she was gorgeous. How was that fair? His poor, drunk brain could only handle so many pretty people. He snuggled a little closer to Patroclus.

Her skin was the same darker tone as his, and was dressed in a severe dress. She looked ready to take on a battalion all by herself with nothing but the bag clutched in her hand.

“There you are,” She said, “I was looking for you everywhere.” Her eyes finally fell on Tony.

“So, you’re the one who stole the birthday boy then?” She drawled. Patroclus rolled his eyes, gently untangling Tony from himself.

Tony leaned towards her, smiling brightly.

“He hasn’t stolen me yet, but he’s more than welcome to.” Another wink. Was it just him or was the room spinning?

The woman looked at him, askance.

“Gods, that was awful. Patroclus, come.”

She turned to leave, hooking an arm under Patroclus’ and prepared to drag him away. Tony waved goodbye enthusiastically, but it was the wrong thing to do. The sudden movement added to his dizziness and he felt a wave of nausea hit him.

He retched. All over Patroclus.

+

Hours later, when he was more sober, groaning and hugging a toilet, he remembered their conversation and shuddered. 

God that flirting was _mortifying_. And then?

He could never come face to face with that man again. He couldn’t handle the shame.

(He doesn’t remember the strange comment from the woman about ‘gods’- I mean hey, why would he? A lot of religions had more than one god. It was only after everything that he recalled the conversation. It should have been his first clue)

When he complained to his beloved Rhodey, all the bastard did was laugh. _Stop being a dramatic bitch, Tony_ , was all he said before leaving Tony to his misery. Rude. This was clearly a real crisis.

It’s fine, he’ll just try to avoid any events that look like they’d attract the attention of a young, cute man.

Fuck. He was screwed.

+

Unfortunately for Tony, he does see the man again. This time at a Doctors Without Boarders fundraiser, put together by a simpering politician who was clearly only doing it to gain favour with his people. It wouldn’t work but, hey, it was for a good cause.

He’s was making the rounds, rubbing elbows with all the right people, Pepper at his side, when he caught sight of him. And he was not alone.

A tall blonde was standing next to him, arm lightly wrapped around his waist.

Patroclus saw him and smiled.

Tony would very much like the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Pepper’s was having none of it.

“This is important.” She hissed into his ear, red, low-cut dress only further cementing the fact that she was not to be messed with. She took a firm hold of his arm and before he knew it, he was being dragged across the room to where the two were standing.

“Hello. It’s nice to see you again.” Patroclus said once they reached him. To his credit he didn’t even bat an eye at the sight of Tony, the hot-shot billionaire CEO, being dragged around by his PA.

“Again?” Pepper asked. Tony could see the exasperation in her gaze, the silent question of _did you sleep with him too?_ Tony pointedly looked away from her. He could hear her sigh.

The blonde standing by Patroclus raised his eyebrow.

“He’s the one I was telling you about. The one with the terrible pick-up lines worthy of Agamemnon.” Patroclus said, turning towards him. He didn’t mention the Incident.

The other’s eyes lit up in recognition and he grinned down at Tony.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Achilles.” The blonde, Achilles, said.

“Like the hero?” Pepper asked.

“Yes. My parents were fans.”

His hand was tapping out a rhythm on Patroclus’s stomach, a metal band glinting on one of his fingers. Tony stared at it.

Patroclus looked down, following his stare and smiled warmly when he caught sight of it. He wriggled his own fingers, showing off a matching ring.

“We’ve been married for two years now.”

“Congratulations!” Pepper exclaimed, elbow digging into Tony’s side who managed to choke out his own ‘congratulations.’

Tony looked at the heavy chandeliers on the ceiling and prayed to a God he didn’t believe in, that one would fall on him and save him from this situation. He was _mortified_. He’d drunkenly flirted with a married man. _Badly_.

Pepper seemed oblivious to his inner monologue, Patroclus too. The two of them were soon chattering away about all that they hoped the event would be able to achieve. Patroclus explained how he was a doctor with the program, and that the funding would be a big step in the right direction towards getting more medical aid out there

Achilles sidled up to Tony, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Isn’t he amazing?” Achilles murmured. He didn’t seem to be expecting a response as he carried on anyways, saving Tony the difficulty of deciding what the correct answer would be to the question.

“Every time I see him I fall more in love. He is everything to me.” Dark eyes turned to him, all of a sudden his face cold and almost inhuman, “I lost him once, I won’t lose him again. Not to anything.”

Tony took the warning for what it was and nodded. Achille’s face immediately cleared. 

“Good.”

He abandoned Tony’s side and moved instead back to his husband who greeted him with a sweet smile.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, talking with this person, with that CEO, on and on and on.

The night was drawing to a close when he saw Patroclus again. 

Patroclus walked up to Tony, his golden shadow nowhere to be seen.

“Hello.” Patroclus said.

“Hi.”

“I hope Achilles wasn’t too much of a bastard to you. He gets possessive.”

“No it’s fine. I’m the one who should be apologising. For what I did. Ya’ know with the whole—” he gestured vaguely in what he hoped was an accurate representation of him emptying his guts all over Patroclus.

Patroclus snorted, shaking his head in amusement.

“It really wasn’t that bad.” He said, grinning. “I’ve been covered in worst.” And winked.

Recovered from his shock, Tony returned it with a smirk.

“Well, in that case, I’ll catch you later _hot stuff_ ”

Patroclus threw back his head and laughed.

+

He saw him again a few months later, but only for a few seconds. They didn’t have time for more than a quickly shouted conversation.

“Hey Patroclus! How’s it hanging?”

“Hello Tony. A little to the left, if you must know.”

It was the start of a tradition.

+

“Hey Honeybunch, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“I don’t know Tony, you’d have to ask my husband.”

“You smooth fucker.”

+

“Wow, is it me or did the temperature of the room just rise drastically.”

“…”

“Because you’re hot?”

+

“How’s my adorable little badger!”

“Badger?”

“Because your husbands always badgering me about you. Get it? Hey Patroclus—hey— hey—Get it?”

+

“Darling?”

“No.”

“Snookums?”

“That was worse and you know it.”

“My precious?”

“Gollum, is that you?”

“Point taken.”

+

“Hello Patroclus, you’re looking fine this morning.”

“Hello, Gollum. You look well.”

“No. That’s not going to be a thing.”

“Hmmm?”

+

“And this is my precious, Patroclus.”

“Thanks for the introduction, Gollum.”

+

Tony went missing a week later in Afghanistan.


	3. Natasha:Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo. I’m not dead! I’ll only proofread this in the morning so beware mistakes. I just really wanted to get this one out there!
> 
> Canon? Timeline? I do not know them. BUT this is before Natasha joined SHIELD, like waaaay before and she goes by Natalia in this.
> 
> I love the idea of Achilles being noticeably in-human so I really wanted to highlight that. Enjoy!

Natalia Romanov didn’t get scared. Fear had been beaten out of her in the Red Room. It had been bled from her. Ripped out and taken away by the greedy hands of those who had owned her. _Had_.

Because she, the girl who had been the slave to others wills for so long, was finally free. And she was running. And she was scared.

They were hunting her, always half a step behind her. Natalia got no rest, hovering in a constant state of paranoia. She didn’t want to be caught, couldn’t be caught. The things they’d do to her if that happened. She’d wish for something as sweet as death. It would never be gifted to her.

Instead she would be twisted and bent and moulded back into what they wanted, be sculpted by heavy hands uncaring of the damage they wrought to her, until she would once more be unrecognisable. Until she would once more be the Black Widow. The perfect weapon.

She was steadily making her way across Europe, _fleeing_ Europe, trying to reach America. There the Red Room had a weaker hold on the continent, didn’t have as many resources. There she would be safer. Safer, not safe. No, never safe.

Natalia had just left the borders of France behind her, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. Carefully concealed of course, to appear to be nothing more than an unfortunate smattering of murders to any but the ones who were hunting her. There was no true hiding from them. Only flight.

It was here, in Spain, on the run from those she had betrayed with all the ruthlessness that had been drilled into her, that she saw _them_.

At first glance they seemed to be nothing more than two friends out enjoying their holidays, vacationing in one of the many plazas in Spain. But that naïve view of them lasted for only a moment.

Something about them pricked up the hairs on the back of her neck, raised her hackles. She _knew_ something was wrong with them. It was obvious to any who actually _looked_ , a simple fact. _The sky was blue, grass was green and they were dangerous_.

Two young men. Each other’s opposites. One was slightly taller than the other. Tanned pale skin, fine-boned, with long fingers. Wild eyes flashed sharply underneath golden hair that hung in loose waves just below his shoulders. 

His counterpart, olive skinned with curly dark hair and dark eyes. Greek, most likely. He seemed almost to glow faintly in the bright summer sun. 

But they were… _off_. Off in a way that had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. They didn’t belong here, too ready, to in-human, to like _her_.

The blonde was laughing at something the other had said, gaze resting solely on his face. But still. She could read the readiness in his shoulders, the constant awareness he had of his surroundings.

They must have been sent by the Хозяин, one of their little experiments.

Her hand jiggled slightly by her side, tapping a rhythm on her leg before she realised what she was doing, and stopped. She took a fortifying breath. Calm. She needed to be calm.

Natalia hadn’t fought many of the Experiments before, with the exception of Cолдат. He had carried the same aura of something other, with his otherworldly silver arm and deadened eyes. But not in the way they were.

They looked so…uncaring of what was around them. Of who. It spoke of overconfidence and most likely, arrogance. Natalia could use that.

Subtly, she began to track them as they walked across the market, always following carefully a few paces behind.

It had only been an hour or two, when the two men split ways. She followed behind the dark-haired one, pegging him as the weaker fighter.

Natalia watched as he fingered numerous silk shirts on display, vendors calling out joyfully to him as he passed. There was familiarity there. Clearly the two had been stationed here long enough to have established a rapport with the locals. A close one by the looks of that. 

So maybe, maybe, they weren’t here for her. A coincidence. She snorted at the likelihood of it. 

Natalia looked up from the jewellery she had been studying in an effort to appear inconspicuous, and cursed. The man had vanished.

She walked forward, preparing to search for him at a higher vantage when she was unexpectedly tugged into an empty side-street, stumbling.

A hand caught her shoulder and shoved her up against a hard wall, the air leaving her lungs in a rush of air. Before she even knew what she was doing, her body took over. She twisted, sharply throwing her weight into one elbow whilst side-stepping a leg. To her surprise her challenge was acknowledged and _met_.

Natalia caught a fist before it landed, blocking another by her head. She pivoted, kicking out but only succeeded in hitting a glancing blow as the other slid to the side. She was caught off guard again by a flurry of hits, managing, though, to stop all but a few from finding their targets.

Her opponent backed off slightly, enough so that she could finally make out who it was.

Golden hair, curling below shoulders, with the same eerie look in his eyes. It was the blonde. The one whose companion she had been following. And judging from the glint in his eyes, he knew of it and didn’t approve. Natalia winced as her side twinged unpleasantly. No, he didn’t approve at all.

He watched her silently, bright eyes burning fiercely, daring her to make a move.

Natalia didn’t know why she did it. It was unlike her to be so careless with something as precious as her own life. Maybe it was the weeks spent on edge, the harrowing paranoia-filled hours. Maybe the slight hysteria she could feel bubbling below her skin was to blame. The cynical amusement she felt at the fact that after all these months on the run from the only one’s she feared, she’d die here, of all places, just an hour away from her apparent freedom. Maybe she was just itching for a fight.

Either way, it all ended in Natalia bouncing on the balls of her feet, squaring her shoulders, all in preparation as she curled her hands in a come hither movement, eyes boring into him, finding the same rising anticipation and excitement reflected back at her from the others eyes. She accepted his dare, his challenge. Like recognised like. _Hello_ , his gaze seemed to say, _you’re just the battle I’ve been looking for_. Sharp smiles were flashed. They met in the middle with a clash.

He was fast, inhumanly so. Strong too. But lean. Like her. Built to fight like her. They were the same as much as they were different though. He kept to the ground, feet moving quicker than her eye could make out. She flipped over him, above him.

She was lighter than him and so tried to use this to her advantage, keeping herself bouncing and leaping, ducking and weaving, viper-fast, blows carefully calculated to hit the hardest in places he was most vulnerable. And it was a good tactic. But one that wouldn’t work, not for much longer.

Because it was rapidly becoming evident that he, despite being heavier than her, was just as fast, faster even. And he didn’t look to be slowing down any time soon.

No, it almost seemed like… She twisted to the side, throwing herself into a low roll as she gave herself a quick moment to observe him closer. Something she should have done earlier, had she not been so hasty. Because now that she was looking she could see something… _there!_ Yes! He was holding back!

It could be read in the pulled punches, the slower movements. The fact that he hadn’t tried to rid her of her more obviously placed knives. That he had managed to sneak up on her before the fight. He was hiding. Hiding just how much he could do. And she knew why.

The answer was in the wild eyes, the too-smooth face. The teeth-filled smiles.

Natalia didn’t often linger on memories of her youth. But this she knew with clarity. She’d come into life with stories of _Ježibaba_ , of wailing _Rusalka_ , spirits that would trick people from their path, of disembodied souls and cruel tricksters. Of the malevolent shadows that would form in places of violence.

And the Red Room had certainly been exactly that. The stories had been told and spread about the Room, everyone whispering their families’ versions of the well-known tales. Because they knew. They might be forgotten… no, they _would_ be forgotten. But their stories, their tales would not.

Irregardless of this, Natalia knew. Knew about the things that slipped in between, unseen. Knew of the things that looked human but were not. Knew how she couldn’t beat Them. 

Not like this. Not unprepared as she was. Knew that the thing in front of her was certainly no Experiment. It wasn’t overconfidence or arrogance she saw earlier, but the self-assuredness that came with knowing you were the most dangerous thing in the area. At least Natalia could now be certain that they weren’t working for the Хозяин. And that they hadn’t actually been looking for her.

The silent mocking look in his eyes told her that he knew what she had guessed. And the hopelessness of her fight. Whatever. If this is was how she’d go out then she would face it head on. будь что будет.

“Come on then, _Vilenjak_ ,” she bared her teeth, “I am ready.”

He tossed his head, a savage grin slashed across his face.

She leaned forward slightly, muscles bunching, palming a knife, ready to _really_ get into it and—

“Stop!”

Both fighters froze and then swivelled, eerily in sync.

There, at the mouth of the side street stood the other man, his arms folded and brows drawn down in irritation.

“What _exactly_ , do you think you are doing?” He snapped, stalking forwards. It wasn’t directed at Natalia, but the _Vilenjak_.

The _Vilenjak_ clicked his tongue before turning his back on her and taking the other into his arms with no thought to the fact that he now left himself vulnerable to attack. He had no need to worry about his unprotected back. They both knew that.

“Ah, _αγάπη μου_ , what is it that you think I have done?”

The endearment from him startled her. She didn’t understand why he would admit such a weakness in front of the enemy. Unless of course he had really didn’t fear her in the slightest.

“Don’t you _αγάπη μου_ me! You said that you were just out to buy a few things from the vendor Jules, that I must wait and sit tight at the station. Well - that is just what I do, thinking to myself about how kind and sweet _αγάπη μου_ is, bringing me the fruit I so love for our trip.”

At this the _Vilenjak‘s_ face began to screw up and he opened his mouth, probably to argue in his defence. He was steamrolled right over.

“So you can imagine my surprise when the vendor Jules – you remember Jules? - came up and asked me how I was! I was surprised of course, and asked him if surely he should not be managing his stall now. He laughed and said it was his day off, and hadn’t my beloved, _αγάπη μου_ , told me this?”

His glare was a terrifying thing.

“Instead I find you fighting! Fighting the very person I told you to leave alone this morning! The very one I told you was trouble! Now, what have you to say for yourself?”

There was a silence as the _Vilenjak_ clearly tried to come up with a feasible excuse for, which was quickly becoming evident, his going against his partners direct wishes.

In the silence Natalia saw her chance to escape unscathed.

She pulled herself up to her full height, raising her chin.

“It is of no importance. What does matter, however, is the fact that there are some very dangerous people after me. People, who, have a particular interest in the unexplainable. The unknown.”

Natalia looked pointedly at the _Vilenjak_.

“So here is how it will go. You will let me leave. You will forget me. And I, I will never have even met two charming… _men_ such as yourself.”

Her smile was all teeth, nothing pleasant about it. The _Vilenjak_ was looking at her again, seeming to be actually considering her preposition, her dig at them going uncontested.

She turned to the dark one, hoping to catch an inkling of what he was thinking.

He looked back at her, gaze steady, eyes hard. A moue of displeasure crinkled his face. She knew it was directed more at her willingness to hurt his partner than at the risk to his own safety. She was just glad the _Vilenjak_ hadn’t taken offense at her blatant threat against the life of someone he counted as belonging to him. 

“That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.” Natalia said, puffing herself up slightly, hoping to hide just how unbalanced she felt. Judging from the flash of amusement in the blonde’s eyes, she hasn’t been entirely successful.

“There’s no need for this.” The dark haired one interjected, exasperated. He went ignored.

The blonde folded his arms and stared at her for what felt like hours, his eyes carefully stripping away defence after defence, before giving a sharp nod of his head in agreement.

Natalia breathed a careful sigh of relief before straightening and tucking away her weapon. The two men didn’t move bar the slightest loosening of their shoulders. She and the _Vilenjak_ stood in the alley assessing each other, the silence broken only when the dark-haired man threw his arms in the air, an exasperated look on his face. She startled at the sudden movement.

“Well, if you two are quite done measuring your _ψωλή_ , then I would quite like to be on my way.” He raised a stern eyebrow at them, which left her feeling far younger than she actually was.

“Unless, of course, you both would like this whole encounter to become far more painful than the situation actually warrants?”

They shook their heads in a _no_.

He nodded, satisfied before turning and walking out. The _Vilenjak_ gave her another measuring look before he smirked, the most human expression she had seen on his face so far. Natalia couldn’t help but feel as if she had passed some unknown test. His next words only seemed to confirm this.

“Until we meet again” He said, voice flowing with the same musical accent of his partner, before he turned from her and jogged to catch up with the other.

Natalia stood staring after them for long moment. A part of her hoped she’d seem them again. Another knew that she most probably would not.

If only she knew how wrong she would turn out to be, regarding that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And???
> 
> Translations (everything is from google translate so if you think something is wrong please let me know):
> 
> Хозяин-master/owner  
> Cолдат-Soilder [guess who ;)]  
> Vilenjak-Elf/Elven  
> αγάπη μου-my love in Greek  
> Ježibaba, Rusalka-these are just figures from Russian Folklore  
> ψωλή- I’m sure you can infer this one

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully it’s not too bad


End file.
